PR E L U D E

Every second of the
Emory visit of His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, was
accounted for and unalterable. It was, therefore, right on time that the
temporal and spiritual leader of the Tibetan people began to make his way
out of the Michael C. Carlos Museum
after a brief gallery tour. A bevy of dark-suited U.S. State Department
agents, anonymous officials, and others with clipboards, cell phones, and
walkie-talkies bustled His Holiness off the elevator on the plaza level
and toward the museum's back entrance, their eyes fixed on the line of
black Lincoln Town Cars just outside.

Much to the consternation of the entourage, however, as doors
swung open ahead of him and car engines idled, His Holiness paused to examine
the art on the walls. He peered at a reproduction of an ornate obelisk
from Assyria and at a stone copy of a grave stele from the Acropolis. Then
he stopped altogether to examine a replica of the Rosetta Stone. With quiet
but firm insistence, this monk, in his robes and Rockports, put the demands
of itineraries and the intrusions of cell phones aside for a moment. After
studying the replica for a full thirty seconds--a considerable span in
the schedule of the Dalai Lama--he finally asked a State Department agent
standing in nervous anticipation to tell him what it was. The agent explained
that the ancient Egyptian stone bore inscriptions that enabled scholars
to decipher hieroglyphics. A flash of understanding illuminated His Holiness'
face. The Dalai Lama had learned something new.

The entourage resumed its frenetic pace, and out the door they swept.
Seconds later, the motorcade had wound its way down South Kilgo Circle
and vanished.--A.O.A.